


Good Omens One-Shots (Ineffable Husbands)

by Codytheclod



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, One Shot, Switch Aziraphale (Good Omens), Switch Crowley (Good Omens), good omens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codytheclod/pseuds/Codytheclod
Summary: Collection of one-shots based off the Ineffable Husbands ship. Expect 1-2+ updates a month!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	1. Say Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> Piece name: Say Farewell  
> Words: 1619  
> AU?: No  
> Content warnings: Implication of self-harm  
> Extra: This one-shot is based loosely off/inspired by an amazing song called "Say Farewell" by Ruby Apps. It's an amazing song with not nearly enough recognition.  
> Enjoy!

As the sun gradually dipped beneath the trees, Crowley's fingers strummed against his guitar. He had recently gotten into playing as something to do. He had always adored the music that humans were able to create, and although he wasn't playing his usual taste (Queen), it was still quite enjoyable. Crowley's fingers glided skilfully along the instrument as he played a gentle indie tune.

Aziraphale sat beside him. He seemed to have a lot on his mind, but who wouldn't? The pair just diverted the apocalypse and saved each other from death. Death imposed upon them by people they sided with against their wishes. But in the end, they were on their own side.

Crowley felt his hand be taken off the strings of his guitar. He surprisedly looked over to Aziraphale who was now squeezing his hand.

"Angel?" Crowley said with a frown. "You all good?"

"No." Aziraphale looked at Crowley. His face was etched with pain, which flared some alarm in Crowley.

"Crowley, what if- what if even after we swapped bodies and evaded heaven and hell, heaven is still after me?"

Crowley furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"It's my soul, Crowley. I can feel it withering away slowly. I don't think I'm going to exist for much longer, at least not on Earth. If my soul withers too much, then I'll be forced to retreat into heaven. Where I will be utterly fucked."

Aziraphale showed and stretched out his once glorious wings. The ends were stained with black and the feathers were falling off.

"Unholy hell," Crowley gasped. He reached forward and gently brushed his fingers against the edge of one of the wings, causing it to flinch and fold inwards. That high of sensitivity and pain was definitely not normal.

Crowley felt a range of emotions rush through him and his breath caught in his throat. He sprung forward and desperately clutched onto Aziraphale, who had faded his wings as if they were never present in the existing realm.

"No... No. No! There is no way I am losing you now, angel! We've come so far! I cannot, I will not... Fucking damn it."

Crowley pressed his head against Aziraphale's chest. He felt the angel put his arms around him.

"I can't lose you, Aziraphale. You helped me to see good in this world."

"I know."

Crowley broke the hug and rubbed his teary eyes.

"I don't want to go either," Aziraphale said, looking away from Crowley.

"You don't seem too upset about this."

"I was. But I realised that there's no getting out of this. So how about we just spend as much time as we can together?" Aziraphale suggested.

Crowley was getting emotional. His eyes welled with tears, and he avoided looking at Aziraphale directly. "Fuck you," he spluttered. He didn't know how to deal with this. He had never even begun to speculate an existence without Aziraphale.

A single tear streamed down Aziraphale's cheek. "I know you don't mean that. Crowley, I truly am sorry. I'm unable to hold onto my soul for too much longer, with every passing day a small piece of me fades. I've slowly begun to lose my memories and my love for all things alive."

Crowley sniffled, and gave a hasty nod. He silently swore to Aziraphale that his last time spent down on Earth in a state of existence will be the best he could make it.

***

Aziraphale patted the dirt as Crowley watched nearby on a park bench. He was planting sunflower seeds – plants that he wouldn't be around to watch grow.

The sunlight was batting down on Crowley, and he was glad he wore sunglasses otherwise he would be squinting in irritation against the sun. Crowley was adjusted to squinting in irritation for other reasons.

He got off of the bench and sat cross-legged near Aziraphale. Crowley watched with soft, non-squinting eyes as Aziraphale finished planting the final seed. At least, Crowley thought it was the last one.

Aziraphale took Crowley's hand and placed something in his palm. Aziraphale took his hand away and as soon as he saw that a sunflower seed was now in his hand, Crowley began to protest.

"Angel, no, I only take care of plants, I don't grow them," Crowley said. "I don't think I'm capable of growing anything. My species' whole thing is death and chaos and whatever."

"Crowley, please? I want you to have at least planted one," Aziraphale replied.

Crowley hesitated, before sighing and giving an agreeing nod. Aziraphale was fading away by the day, the least he could do is plant a seed beside his.

"Give me the shovel, then," Crowley said defeatedly, holding out his hand. Aziraphale's haunted eyes seemed to light up.

"Oh, wonderful! You've accepted. How spectacular!" Aziraphale proclaimed happily whilst placing the tiny shovel in Crowley's hand. He dug into the dirt a couple of times before dropping the seed inside and covering the hole over with surrounding mounds of earth Crowley had created with his digging.

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, who seemed so happy with Crowley's decision to plant seeds as well. Crowley felt his heart grow warmer and flutter in delight. Such an adorable expression like Aziraphale's should be illegal. Crowley then realised that, to some drastic extent, it was technically illegal to heaven in some extreme cases regarding obedience and show of emotions.

Crowley stood up, and then he helped Aziraphale stand up as well.

"Thank you for today," Aziraphale said. "I know the news I laid on you the other day was... Harsh, and I sincerely apologise for laying it on you like that."

"That was probably the best outcome. You would've written a letter if you didn't tell me in person, knowing you. What would you even say? 'My soul is slowly fading and I'm gonna die soon'?"

"I would probably put it in lighter terms than that," Aziraphale said, a bit of heat rising to his cheeks.

"Like what?" Crowley teased. "'Sorry but I'm doing lol, bye love you'?"

"No. Possibly something like... 'I must tell you something of severe importance, Crowley. The very essence of my existence is lessening day by day, and after time naught draws long, you will have one less angel by your side," Aziraphale said.

"Now you've just confused me," Crowley said. "I don't think I'd even understand that on paper."

Aziraphale smiled and chose not to respond. He gently took Crowley's hands in his own, and he interlocked their fingers. Crowley's face flushed as he looked at Aziraphale, who was gazing deeply into his eyes.

"Thank you for getting me those sunflower seeds, Crowley," Aziraphale smiled. "You're so amazingly kind."

"I'm not-..." Crowley began to protest about being called nice, but swiftly reminded himself about Aziraphale's numbered days. He sighed. "Alright, whatever."

Aziraphale leaned in and gave Crowley a gentle kiss. Crowley's face went as red as his hair, due to being gay and caught off-guard, but he kissed back with haste.

The two shared a kiss that was nothing but affectionate under the radiant sun.

***

Every day, Crowley had to watch as fragments of Aziraphale slipped away. His wings were nearly none, and he looked sick. What stung the most was that Aziraphale barely loved Crowley, or anything on Earth, anymore.

Aziraphale was sitting up in his bed, sipping on the tea that Crowley had persuaded (more annoyed) him into consuming. It was green tea & lemon. Crowley was sitting next to Aziraphale on the bed.

"Crowley," Aziraphale said. "I barely remember who I am."

Crowley's heart wrenched.

"You're Aziraphale," he said gently. "The most amazing angel I know."

Crowley set his hand on Aziraphale's, but Aziraphale slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me."

Crowley felt his heart wrench more. He couldn't handle seeing Aziraphale like this.

***

That night, Aziraphale was laying in Crowley's arms. Crowley held onto his angel. Crowley was so scared of losing him, and he never wanted to let go, in fear that it'll make him lose Aziraphale forever.

Aziraphale had asked Crowley to cuddle. Crowley had accepted, and Aziraphale fell asleep in Crowley's arms.

Crowley kissed Aziraphale's head softly. Aziraphale woke up and raised his head, then sat up rigidly.

"Get out of here!" Aziraphale screamed. Alarmed, Crowley scrambled out of his bed.

Aziraphale grabbed a spray bottle from off his dresser table. Crowley instantly knew it had holy water in it. Starting to shake, he took a step backwards as Aziraphale pointed the bottle at him.

"Aziraphale, please don't," Crowley began to beg. "You know me, it's me, Crowley."

"I won't fall for your stupid tricks," Aziraphale said angrily. "I'm not a fool."

"Aziraphale, please!"

"Enough!" Aziraphale snapped. He was about to spray Crowley, but he suddenly fell to the floor, the bottle rolling away.

"Aziraphale!?" Crowley exclaimed with wide eyes. He quickly knelt next to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale's wings were outstretched. They were barely more than stumps. Crowley watched with horror as the remnants of Aziraphale's wings began to rapidly fade.

"No. No!" Crowley screamed out. He pulled Aziraphale up into his arms. Crowley tried to fight them, but tears sprung to his eyes and began to stream down his cheeks.

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley and said nothing. The rest of his wings faded to nothing, and Aziraphale's eyes dulled. Crowley shook him desperately.

"Aziraphale, please, wake up, Zira, please..." Crowley's begs grew more defeated with every word. "Wake up, please."

It was too late. Crowley had failed Aziraphale. He hung his head and sobbed as the body of who he loved cradled in his arms. Crowley remembered the holy water. A new look flashed in his eyes and he grabbed the bottle.

I'm not far behind you, Aziraphale.


	2. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piece name: Familiar  
> Words: 4,427  
> AU?: Yes  
> Content warnings: Battle, lots of blood  
> Extra: Aziraphale and Crowley are both 23.

"Your Majesty, the Prince of Calor is here to see you."

The informative words pierced the silence that Aziraphale was enjoying. He opened his eyes and looked at the servant who had approached him, then stepped away from the balcony. A gentle breeze stirred his curly hair, carrying a pleasant and clean scent.

"I'll be down in a moment. Thank you, Eloise," Aziraphale replied. He took a deep inhale before turning and heading back inside.

Aziraphale glanced up and looked somberly at a portrait of his late parents. His mother had passed two years ago, and his father six months ago, leaving Aziraphale alone to lead his kingdom. His older brothers had all moved away to run their own kingdoms with queens that they had married.

Aziraphale walked down to the throne room where the King of Calor awaited Aziraphale. By his side was his daughter who was a year younger than Aziraphale, as well as guards. He already knew what this conversation will be about - Calor was known all too well for their tricks. If you don't agree to wed the King's child, a war will be waged against your kingdom. If you did agree, you would be poisoned after you get married.

Aziraphale took a seat on his throne, taking hold of his scepter. "Greetings, King Beelzebub. What brings you here?" he asked, despite knowing exactly what this meeting will be about.

"King Aziraphale, it's nice to see you." Beelzebub gave a smile that radiated evil, evil vibes. Even his kindness had darkness entwined. "I am sure you know my daughter, Lilith."

"I do," Aziraphale said coolly. She had once tried to make out with him at a ball, and he had to push her away and make up some dumb excuse - all the while he was screaming in his mind, I don't like girls!

"Yes, well. I am here to request that you take her hand in marriage."

Aziraphale took a deep breath and maintained eye contact with the King. This was a very dangerous question to answer. If Aziraphale even implied he was gay, Calor would launch an attack due to their unmasked homophobia. He didn't want a war, but he also couldn't let his kingdom fall into the hands of Lilith. Too much danger and chaos would follow.

"King Beelzebub, with all due respect, this is a very unexpected question to lay upon me," Aziraphale said, carefully weighing out his words. "May I request some time to consider your request?"

"Why, of course," Beelzebub said. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if my head guard, Crowley, remained with you to report back to me once you have an answer then."

Aziraphale stiffened with alarm. This guard could very easily be a spy! "Beelzebub, I don't think that that is necessary-"

"- Oh but it is, to ensure I know of your answer as swiftly as possible," Beelzebub interjected. "I'm sure you have my daughter's and your kingdom's best interest in mind, do you not?"

Aziraphale felt even more on edge. That sounded like it could be a threat.

"I'll be happy to have him here," Aziraphale reluctantly agreed through gritted teeth. He hated every part of this situation.

Beelzebub is way too slick for anyone's good, Aziraphale thought resentfully. He knows all to well my kingdom cannot afford a war. He probably takes me for a fool.

The other king looked pleased. "Excellent. I'll leave him with you, then. I expect him back in two months, or earlier. Goodbye for now, King Aziraphale."

"Bye King Aziraphale!" Lillith said in a singsong voice before turning and leaving with her father and all but one guard.

The person who remained behind was a red-haired male with short hair and abnormally yellow eyes. He seemed familiar, but Aziraphale would remember if he had ever met someone with such a peculiar eye colour. Aziraphale stood up and approached the guard.

"I'll get you assigned to a room," Aziraphale said. "Don't think that you residing here temporarily means you are able to snoop around the castle and unveil our private information."

"I'd never dream of it, Your Majesty," the guard replied.

"Your name is Crowley, yes?"

"Yep. Anthony J Crowley, but I go by Crowley. Sometimes, people call me dickhead, or sexy," he said with a shit-eating grin.

Unimpressed, Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. How was this man ever appointed as the head of guards for Calor? "Right. I'll just stick to Crowley, thanks."

"Whatever you say, sweet stuff," Crowley said with a wink.

Aziraphale felt his face quickly turn a beet red, and his eyes widened with surprise. Did he just fucking flirt with me!? Oh my God, this guy is a mess! A hot, hot mess.

"I'm going to ignore that you just said that," Aziraphale said.

"I dunno Your Majesty, you're seeming pretty red in the face."

"Just- silence! You may not belong to this kingdom, but I'm still a king and you should treat me with more respect," Aziraphale snapped. He looked around for the closest servant and spotted the closest one. "Joseph, show him to one of the guest bedrooms in the castle please. And make a guard go with him."

"Right away, your majesty," Joseph said. "I'll get John."

"You're giving a guard a guard of his own? You flatter me, Your Majesty," Crowley said.

"Come on," Joseph said, leading Crowley away.

"Ciao, Your Majesty!" Crowley called out over his shoulder.

Aziraphale groaned softly. This is going to be a long two months.

***

Aziraphale was pacing inside of his room, a frown drooping his lips and his eyebrows tightly knit. He had just eaten dinner, and now he was contemplating the best way to tackle the whole Crowley situation. Eventually, he decided that spending as much time with him as possible to personally ensure he wasn't undertaking any suspicious activity was the best option.

Crowley had been given a room three doors down from Aziraphale, and had to always have a posted guard. He contemplated giving Crowley two guards, but Aziraphale had two guards of his own and he figured it would be enough. Besides, Aziraphale didn't want to accidentally give any more sense of authority to Crowley.

He stopped pouting and heaved a sigh. Tomorrow, Aziraphale would spend time with Crowley in order to ensure that he stays in line and doesn't try to discover the secrets of the kingdom. He evaporated the mist of his thoughts with a quick shake of his head and walked over to his closet. Aziraphale changed into pyjamas and went into his bed, where he welcomed a dreamless sleep.

***

Aziraphale woke up the next morning. The sunlight radiating brightly through his curtains made him groan as he opened his eyes. He gave himself some time to wake up further before sitting up, yawning, and stretching. He got out of bed and went to his closet, where he put on a scarlet robe made out of silk. Once Aziraphale was completely dressed and groomed and ready for the day, he exited his room and walked down the hall to where Crowley was residing. He had decided that fetching him himself would be more suitable than a servant fetching him.

Aziraphale knocked on the door and then waited. He heard some sounds from inside the room, then the door opened to reveal a messy-haired Crowley. His shirt's top three buttons were undone, and Aziraphale couldn't help but drift his gaze down to the guard's toned torso, which made a gentle blush coat his cheeks.

My word, he's hot. What am I thinking!? Aziraphale quickly diminished the thoughts and looked up at Crowley, who was now smirking.

"Like what you see, angel?"

"Don't call me angel," Aziraphale said as his cheeks went beet red. "Call me Your Majesty. I'm a king and you have to show respect. Must I seriously treat Calor's head of guards like a child?"

Crowley pouted and buttoned up his shirt. "What's on the agenda, Your Majesty?" he asked, a mocking tone present when he addressed Aziraphale by his proper title.

"Where you sent to annoy me?" Aziraphale asked sharply.

"Nah. I just find it funny. You're barely an adult, let alone a King."

"I'm twenty-three!"

"Exactly. Barely an adult."

"You are very much overstepping, Crowley. I'm going to send you home."

"So I can tell the king that you're going to marry his daughter?" Crowley asked smugly.

Damn it. Aziraphale took a deep breath. "Well, Crowley - since you're so smart, how old are you?"

He looked like he was caught off guard. "Uh..."

"Tell me."

"... Twenty-three."

"The head of guards is so young? Impressive, but it gives you no right to taunt me about my age," Aziraphale said, "Let's not speak of this again. You're lucky I have the patience to deal with you."

Crowley nodded, choosing to not give a remark. Aziraphale puffed out his chest. Moving in front of Crowley, he walked down two flights of stairs to reach the dining hall, with the occasional glance thrown over his shoulder to ensure that Crowley was still tagging behind. In the dining hall, Aziraphale sat at the head of the long table.

"Sit anywhere, Crowley," he said as he beckoned towards the empty seats.

"Cool." Crowley sat at the table on the seat to the right of where Aziraphale was sitting. A silence fell between the two, and so he said, "You have a big table, considering you eat alone."

"There was a time when I was not alone here," Aziraphale replied, his eyes clouding with sadness.

Crowley looked almost regretful of his words, gazing down at the table. Just as Aziraphale was about to speak further, two servants emerged from the kitchen with both holding large plates. They set the plates down in front of Aziraphale and Crowley before returning to the kitchen. Crowley's eyes seemed to boggle out of his skull as he stared down at the plate that was brimmed with an array of gourmet foods. Poached eggs, crispy bacon, smoked salmon, and freshly baked bread sit perfectly on porcelain plates. On the side there was a glass of freshly made orange juice.

"Do they not feed you in Calor?" Aziraphale asked jokingly as he took notice of the stunned and wondrous look shaping Crowley's expression.

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale and closed his once gaping jaw. "You eat like this? Every day?"

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"I mean... No. I'm just surprised you'd give me this food," Crowley said. "Over in my kingdom, all I eat for breakfast is a bowl of oatmeal because I'm a guard."

"Oh, dear," Aziraphale frowned. "Despite the fact that you are here under negative conditions, you will still be properly fed. Enjoy."

Aziraphale began to eat his food gracefully and politely, while Crowley on the other hand shoveled his food into his mouth and wolfed it down with no hesitation. His face had a euphoric look, which gave Aziraphale a bittersweet pang. That joyful face, it seems so familiar. Is he...? No, that's wishful thinking.

Once finishing his meal, Aziraphale pat his napkin against his lips to clean them. Crowley, on the other hand, vigorously rubbed his napkin all over his face.

"So, Crowley, how long have you been a guard for?"

"Four years. When I was elected as the head of the guard, all of the others were pissed." Crowley smirked, having a smug and a prideful look on his face as he raised his chin. "Serves them right for being such dicks."

"When were you given the title?" Aziraphale asked.

"Two months ago."

"So, recently. How was the adaptation to a leadership role for you?"

"It's cool," Crowley replied. "Oi, Your Majesty, where's the bathroom? I need to piss."

"I did not want to know that," Aziraphale replied. "Go into the hallway, first door to the left."

"Coolio. Bye." Crowley stood up and left the table, and Aziraphale watched after him carefully. He contemplated following him, just in case, but Aziraphale then decided to just give him his privacy. 

Instead, Aziraphale took his and Crowley's dirty dishes to the kitchen. It was always something that was discouraged by his parents, but Aziraphale was grateful for all of his staff and wanted to lives a little bit easier in the least. Ever since he became king, Aziraphale had raised the pay of his workers, given them their preferred amount of time in which they work, and hired some less well-off people to work for him.

He put the dishes next to the sink and then left the kitchen again, returning to the dining room and pushing in the chairs that he and Crowley had used. As he was doing so, Crowley strolled back into the room, his hands in the pockets of his pants. 

"Hey, Angel," Crowley greeted him.

Aziraphale gave him a stern look. Such disdain towards me! he thought, unimpressed. "Crowley, you are to refer to me as Your Maje-"

"Your Majesty, yeah, yeah, I know," Crowley said. "But, to be fair, I'm not from your kingdom, remember? So technically, you're not my Majesty."

"I am still a King and you are to refer to me as my proper title," Aziraphale replied. He was struggling to keep his patience. Why did this guard have to keep on pestering and annoying him!?

"Okay," he said simply. "Soooo, what else is there to do today, Your Majesty?"

Aziraphale ignored the mocking tone in his voice. "Well, I have a meeting to attend, and I would prefer that you do not be there with me. You can stick around with my own guards for the day, seeing as you might as well get some extra training."

Crowley pouted, looking slightly dismayed. "Aw, but, Your Majesty-"

Aziraphale cut off his protest with a hum of agreement. "Actually, you're right - if you were declining, that is. I don't want you to know how my own soldiers fight. You can help in the kitchen for the morning then join me again for lunch."

Crowley looked even more dismayed. "No, w-"

"Crowley, stop. As long as you are here, you listen to me," Aziraphale said sharply. "Do what I tell you. I shouldn't have to treat you like a child, because you sure are acting like one."

"Fine."

***

As the days went by, Aziraphale and Crowley spent time bonding. They were both getting more and more familiar with each other as time went on, and Aziraphale invited Crowley to spend more and more time with him. The two exchanged stories and laughter, both of which Aziraphale could've sworn he had heard before. But he didn't think much of it.

One evening, as the sun was setting, Aziraphale invited Crowley to join him on the highest balcony in the castle. It had a porch swing that they both sat on, and they stared out as the sun slowly lowered itself past the distant mountain. The lights of the city were slowly turning on, one by one, as the sky got darker. Aziraphale was gently rocking the swing back on forth in a gentle swaying motion as he gazed out at the kingdom beneath them. The sun was almost gone, and the first stars of twilight were beginning to twinkle

"Two more days until I have to go back," Crowley said, addressing the elephant in the room.

"Right." Aziraphale turned away from the sky to look at Crowley. "I've enjoyed the time I've spent with you, Crowley, even if you are a pain in the ass."

Crowley smirked. "I can't believe you gave in and stopped making me call you Your Majesty."

"I mean, you were very persistent about it," Aziraphale pointed out. "'Ah, but you are technically not my Majesty!'" 

Crowley and Aziraphale laughed at Aziraphale's mockery, and the smile slowly faded from Crowley's lips as he looked at Aziraphale seriously. A seriousness that Aziraphale had never seen.

"Aziraphale, I think you know all too well what will happen to you if you reject my princess' hand in marriage."

"I think you know what will happen if I accept it."

"Touche." Crowley heaved a sigh, and he held eye contact with Aziraphale, who was almost too eager to gaze into those golden eyes. "Aziraphale, there's something I need to tell you."

Without realising, Aziraphale leaned in closer to him. "What is it?"

Crowley continued looking into Aziraphale's eyes before shaking his head and looking away. "It's nothing, don't worry about it. We should head back inside and go to sleep."

Aziraphale felt disappointment tug at his chest. What was he going to say? he thought.

"Okay."

***

The next day, Aziraphale and Crowley spent time together as usual. It was their last full day together - Crowley was due to leave the next morning. Aziraphale took Crowley on a tour of his kingdom, but when it was over, Crowley said he has seen the kingdom before. That got a laugh out of both of them.

At dinner time, it was just the two of them on the high balcony. Both of them were sitting on the porch swing with their plates of foods in their laps. They ate together, watching the sun go down like they did the previous night - except this time, with food.

"I'm going to miss you, Crowley," Aziraphale said sadly.

"I'm going to miss you too." Crowley heaved a sigh. "Aziraphale, I... I need to tell you that thing I didn't tell you last night."

Now, Aziraphale and Crowley were facing each other.

"Tell me."

"I..." Crowley stared right into Aziraphale's eyes. "I-I, I'm... Fuck."

Crowley stood up and took Aziraphale's hand, making him stand as well. Crowley leaned in close and cupped Aziraphale's cheek in his hand, pulling their faces close together. Aziraphale felt his face flush red as he glanced down to Crowley's lips, and he gave a little nod. Crowley leaned in and kissed Aziraphale deeply, smashing their lips together in a loving way. Aziraphale felt a strong sense of familiarity wash over him. 

Crowley set his hands on Aziraphale's hips, and Aziraphale put his arm around Crowley's neck and pulled him closer. Their chests collided and their legs tangled as both men kissed with more passion, more emotion. Both of their faces were red, and butterflies fluttered in both of their stomachs. 

Crowley pulled away from the kiss. Neither of them spoke. Crowley turned and walked away. 

Now, Aziraphale understood.

***

Aziraphale woke up as the creamy lights of dawn were streaking the sky with colour. He got up and quickly changed, making his way to Crowley's room swiftly.

Please, please, please, please...

Aziraphale opened the door. Crowley was nowhere to be seen, and no essence of his presence remained. Crowley was gone.

"No... No," Aziraphale whispered, his lower lip trembling. "Not again."

He stumbled into the room, searching around desperately for any signs of Crowley. On the small desk in the room, Aziraphale found a note that he picked up and read.

'YOur Majesty,

Love is such a pure thing.

Is marrying her the choice you will make? I hope so.

Forever, our kingdoms can be strong, if allied.

~ Crowley'

Aziraphale knew right away that the formatting hid a deeper message. With this man, it always does.

Our love is forever.

***

Exactly one week after Crowley had left is when the first attack happened. On the far fields within the land of his kingdom, Calor knights had attacked the workers. They mercilessly slaughtered majority of the workers and left a few alive on purpose to run away and get help. Aziraphale's knights grouped up and charged into battle.

Aziraphale quickly got informed of the situation, and his heart dropped. He ran to the armory and quickly threw on some armor and grabbed a sword, despite protests from his servants. Aziraphale had to what whatever it took to protect his kingdom, even if that meant putting his own life on the line - and he was trained for battle. 

Aziraphale followed his knights into now-battlefield. Blood was already sprayed on the grass, and there were bodies dropping at a rapid rate. He charged directly into battle, towards two Calor knights who were outnumbering one of Aziraphale's own. Aziraphale bound forward and blocked one of the knights from further harming his own knight.

The enemies' sword lashed loudly against Aziraphale's armour, so Aziraphale drew his sword and hit it against the knight's. With swift and skilled movements, they fought against each other. Aziraphale was sweating beneath his armour, but there was no way that he would ever give up. They kept on fighting until Aziraphale suddenly stabbed through the knight's leg, causing him to yelp and crumble helplessly to the ground. Aziraphale would not be killing anyone today.

He threw himself back into the battle. He and his knights were slowly pushing back and overpowering the opposition, but Aziraphale realized only too late that he had been cornered away from his own knights by a group of enemies. 

Aziraphale raised his sword and twisted it into a defensive position. He tried his best to mask his anxiety as his eyes darted from one enemy to the other. They were slowly closing in on him. Aziraphale was outnumbered.

"N-No," he stammered uselessly.

Two of the knights grabbed Aziraphale, moving his armor so his neck was completely exposed.

They're going to decapitate me, Aziraphale realized, his blood running cold. He began to thrash and scream out for help, but no one seemed to hear him.

"The king himself!" a knight sneered. "I can't believe that I'm going to have the honour of taking you out. Now hold still, or I'll make this even more painful."

Aziraphale's sword was taken out of his grip and he was forced onto his knees, with one of the knights grabbing a fistful of white hair as the person who spoke drew closer. Aziraphale's eyes were full of fear and alarm as he stared at his attacker.

The sword drew closer. Aziraphale felt it being teasingly prodded against his throat, as if the Calor knights found this amusing. They probably did. A helpless whimper escaped Aziraphale's throat as he screwed his eyes shut.

Aziraphale braced himself for a pain that never came. Instead, more commotion filled the air, and Aziraphale opened his eyes which widened even further. Crowley had started attacking one of the knights!

"Crowley!" Aziraphale exclaimed as relief overwhelmed him. He stood up, tearing himself out of the grip of his enemies, and picked up his sword. Aziraphale stood by Crowley's side and began to fight with him.

"Traitor!" one of the Calor knights spat at Crowley.

"Rot in hell," Crowley snarled in response before slamming his sword through the man's chest. Aziraphale glanced over for a second to see him crumple to his knees, and Crowley withdraw his blade. 

Side by side, the dynamic duo fought off the rest of the group, and rejoined the main battle. Just before the Calor knights turned and fled, Aziraphale suddenly cried out in pain and fell to the ground as a sword went right through his side.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley yelled out, shoving away the attacker who then retreated before falling to his knees beside Aziraphale. "Aziraphale!?"

"I'll be fine," Aziraphale said shakily, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Take me back."

"Okay, okay, I will," Crowley said, scooping Aziraphale up and cradling him close - even with the bulky armor. "I'm taking you home, okay? Don't fall asleep yet, please."

Aziraphale nodded weakly. Crowley began to carry him to the castle as quick as he could manage, briefly stopping to explain everything to knights who questioned him along the way. Crowley took Aziraphale, who was barely conscious, to the medical wing where Crowley was sent out to wait for news.

***

A few hours later, Crowley was informed that Aziraphale was waiting for him. He entered the room and sat in a chair beside Aziraphale's temporary bed. Crowley took Aziraphale's hand in his own, running his thumb over the king's knuckles.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Crowley asked softly.

"Sore," Aziraphale replied. "But that's expected. How are you?"

"I didn't get hurt nearly as much as you did, I'm fine," Crowley said. "Aziraphale, I'm sorry I never told you, I... I'm sorry."

"Raphael," Aziraphale mumbled.

"Yeah... Yeah, it's me," Crowley said. "So, you remember."

"Of course. I would never forget you, Raphael. I'm surprised it took me so long to figure out," Aziraphale said. "The red hair... It suits you. I'm guessing the yellow eyes are contacts. Could you take them out?"

Crowley gave a nod. Carefully, he took out the eye contacts he had in, his eyes staying on Aziraphale's the whole time. There were those gorgeous brown eyes Aziraphale loved.

"Raphael?"

"That name isn't really me anymore, call me Crowley," he corrected gently.

"Of course. Crowley? Why did you leave?"

Crowley's eyes seemed pain, and he took a deep breath. "Well... Two days after I turned seventeen, your parents found out about us. They said to me that if I didn't leave the kingdom, they would blame a recent murder on me."

"T-They said... They said you ran away, or went missing," Aziraphale said. "I thought you might have died, because you wouldn't run away without me." Too weak to force it back, Aziraphale began to sob softly.

"I know. I'm so sorry," Crowley said. He cradled Aziraphale's cheeks in his hands, and he wiped away his tears. "I had no choice. I would've been framed, and then hanged. I didn't want to die. Every day I thought about you, seeing you again. I jumped at the opportunity to spend time with you, regardless of the circumstances. I had no way of contacting you. I loved you ever day, and I missed you more than you could ever imagine."

"I missed you too, so much," Aziraphale croaked. "I love you, Crowley."

"I love you too. I'm so sorry it took me so long to tell you who I really am. I was so scared you'd hate me," Crowley admitted.

"I forgive you. But just know that I would never, ever hate you."

Crowley nodded. He leaned in and kissed Aziraphale softly.

***

One year later.

Aziraphale and Crowley were sitting together on the swing porch on the highest balcony in the castle, holding hands as they stared out at the twinkling stars.

"I still can't believe we're getting married tomorrow, Angel," Crowley said.

"Neither can I. I'm so happy."

A lot had changed over the last year. Calor had quit their terrible, blackmailing antics, and the announcement of Crowley and Aziraphale's engagement encouraged more LGBT couples to come out, and attracted LGBT people from all over the country. Crowley and Aziraphale had gotten engaged one week after Aziraphale had recovered from his battle wounds, with the pair both proposing to each other at the same time. Clearly, they both had the same idea.

"I can't wait to spend my life with you," Aziraphale said, resting his head on Crowley's shoulder. "We're going to grow old together as grumpy, gay kings."

"Don't forget horny," Crowley said, which made Aziraphale playfully role his eyes and smile.

"You are so silly."

And so the pair spent the night the rest of the night watching the sky together, something they would continue to do once a month, every month, until they were too old and sick to continue their tradition. Side by side, Aziraphale and Crowley spent the rest of their lives together, as kings who were forever inseparable.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hello, everyone, I hope you are well! The new update is taking a lot more longer than usual, and I apologise deeply! I have been going through a lot of personal things and this one shot is going to be a lot longer than the others, and I have only written 5k words for it so far._ **

**_Below will be a teaser for the next update, I hope it gets you excited! I just ask that you please do not take/claim this plot in any form, and that feedback is appreciated, both here and whenever the new update will come out. It is definitely not your normal Good Omens AU, but I am personally excited for this!_ **

**_And without further ado, here's your teaser!_ **

**_***_ **

Every twenty years, pregnant mothers all over the world are required by law to consume The Pill, a special tablet that can potentially alter genetics. Refusal to comply, or children born without have ever consuming the pill, results in the mothers to be executed Although they try harder than ever in this time frame to avoid procreation, children are always born within the chosen year.

Every twenty years, a government organisation called The Stem (Sincere Termination of Endangering Mindsets) select two unborn children on the globe at random to either have a birthmark-like tattoo of either a rose or a thorn.

Every twenty years, The Chosen are born.

Respectively, the child born with a rose birthmarks is given the title The Rose, and the child born with a thorn birthmark is given the title The Thorn. In the year that the Rose and the Thorn turn twenty years old, they are both given coordinates in a letter, and must arrive to the location of the coordinates within a week.

At the location, the Rose and the Thorn have to select which one of them will spend the rest of their lives in isolation - no contact in any way to any other human for as long as they live, with indirect care and necessary materials provided by The Stem. This process is run by the organisation as an example to the world that anyone can be the victim of a crime, or war - and is a tribute to the people of 2020 who had all had to spend time living in isolation.

At least, that's what the public were told.


	4. The Rose And The Thorn Part 1

****Piece name:**** The Rose and the Thorn Part 1/2

 ** **Words:**** 9754

 ** **AU?:**** Yes

 ** **Content warnings:**** Light NSFW, but it's just neck kissing and also not for Hornee Reasons.

 ** **Extra:**** This is most definitely not your usual AU, especially not for Good Omens, but I hope you enjoy! _(Please do not take this idea. I would love feedback on it!)_

***

Every twenty years, mothers all over the world who are pregnant are required by law to consume The Pill, a special tablet that can potentially alter genetics. Refusal to comply, or children born in these time slots without have ever consuming the pill, results in the mothers to be executed. Although they try harder than ever in this time frame to avoid procreation, children are always born within the chosen year.

Every twenty years, a government organisation called The Stem (Sincere Termination of Endangering Mindsets) select two unborn children on the globe at random to either have a birthmark-like tattoo of either a rose or a thorn.

Every twenty years, The Chosen are born.

Respectively, the child born with a rose birthmark is given the title The Rose, and the child born with a thorn birthmark is given the title The Thorn. In the year that the Rose and the Thorn turn twenty years old, they are both given coordinates in a letter, and must arrive to the location of the coordinates within a week.

At the location, the Rose and the Thorn have to select which one of them will spend the rest of their lives in isolation - no contact in any way to any other human for as long as they live, with indirect care and necessary materials provided by The Stem. This process is run by the organisation as an example to the world that anyone can be the victim of a crime, or war - and is a tribute to the people of 2020 who had all had to spend time living in isolation.

At least, that's what the public were told.

***

On June 27th, 2360, Aziraphale Fell was born The Rose. His parents had wept and promised to take good care of him growing up so if he was forced into isolation, he would remember who brought him up and the great times they had together. Aziraphale grew up a happy child. His parents had decided to keep the fact that he was The Rose a secret to avoid unneeded attention towards their child. Aziraphale never told anyone that he was The Rose.

On October 11th, 2360, Anthony J. Crowley was born The Thorn. His mother had instantly abandoned him to avoid having to deal with the thought of her child being such a thing; born with such a bittersweet fate. Anthony was adopted by a couple who never gave him enough attention, barely listened to him or his problems, and regularly belittled him, so he decided to go by Crowley to not have to think about the first name that they always sneered. His adoptive parents bragged to everyone they ever met that their child was The Thorn, and advised to him to tell everyone he met as well. Crowley told everyone that he was The Thorn.

***

_Wednesday, 25th of June, 2380._

Aziraphale had just gotten home from a trip to the newsagency to get a newspaper the day the letter came. He had bought a bottle of milk and some coloured sticky notes for his university work. He sometimes thought about the fact that newspapers were somehow still in business - but they had been reduced to only being released once a month due to low demand. Unsurprisingly, the headline was related to his rather rare situation – the fact that he was the Rose.

He walked inside and went to the kitchen where he put the items he had bought on the bench to put in their respectful places. Aziraphale put the milk in the fridge, stopping for a moment to admire all of the magnets on it. The refrigerator was coloured and lively with a little whiteboard with an array of coloured markers, a few framed Polaroids of Aziraphale and his parents, and a pride magnet of course. Aziraphale and his family were perfectly capable of getting a digital fridge, but they decided that they would remain oldschool in their cosy home.

Aziraphale turned away from the fridge and returned to the bench where he grabbed the sticky notes off so he could carry them to his room. Aziraphale dropped them which made him let out a frustrated grunt, but when he bent over and recollected the brightly coloured adhesives, he let out a pained " _ugh_ ".

For the past few days, his rose birthmark had been sending random jolts of pain through him and even glowed at random times. Aziraphale knew exactly what was happening - any day now, he would receive a letter telling him where to go to meet The Thorn. He didn't know why the side effects of pain and glowing were necessary, though, but he dealt with them as well as he could manage.

Aziraphale's unique birthmark was placed on the left side of his chest, more centered than his heart, but not completely in the middle. He made sure that he never went out into the public eye without some sort of shirt covering his torso, and always wore a rash vest when he went out swimming. The fact that he was British and had such soft skin was a perfect excuse for in case that was questioned.

"Aziraphale, check the mail please!" his mother called from somewhere upstairs.

"Okay, ma!" Aziraphale called back.

Since there was a fifty-fifty chance that Aziraphale would be spending the rest of his days in isolation (and let's face it, he'd easily give in and give up his spot in the world if The Thorn wanted it, which is very likely, and therefore solidarity was almost guaranteed to be the outcome), Aziraphale had spent his whole life living with his parents. He didn't see the use of going out of his way to getting his own home with the chance he wouldn't use it, and plus, if he makes it out he can simply purchase a house or apartment then.

Aziraphale walked back out of his house and to his mailbox where he collected the mail, which was just one envelope in a style he had never before seen. The envelope was jet black with Aziraphale's name and address printed on it with white ink which was probably just correction fluid. He re-entered his house, opening the envelope neatly as he did so, an apprehensive eagerness beginning to eat him up.

_This is it. This is going to be the letter which will tell me where I have to go to find out whether I can continue living as normal or if I'm going to be forced into isolation._

"Mum, dad, the letter's here!" Aziraphale called out.

As soon as he yelled that out, Aziraphale heard them both move to come downstairs to where Aziraphale was standing in the kitchen. His parents came over and stood beside him. His ma’s lips were curled into a worried frown whereas his pa’s silently encouraged Aziraphale to open it. No words were exchanged between any of them as Aziraphale opened up the envelope and read the contents.

_'Aziraphale,_

_Congratulations on being born The Rose._

_Here is where you need to be within seven days, and the coordinates of this location. Good luck, and may you work with The Thorn to select the best person to be freed._

_Sincerely,_

_STEM.'_

On another piece of paper was a bunch of numbers, and an address. Aziraphale took a deep breath and looked up at his teary-eyed parents. This was it. This was real. He set down the envelope and pulled them both into a tight hug. Aziraphale and his parents stood in their kitchen and sobbed.

***

Crowley was throwing his ass around a pole the day the letter came. He was in desperate need of money, so what was better than working at a gay strip club? A lot of things, probably, but he didn't care. It was easy money, and showing off his mark got him reigning in a lot more cash than his co-workers. Plus, Crowley looked fucking amazing in his outfits. And, not to mention, he was gay as _fuck_ and admittedly loved the attention.

Crowley's birthmark was located on the midsection of his thigh, and it simply looked like a singular thorn - so it was essentially just a slightly rounded triangle. Either way, with the way it glowed and the birth records STEM provided that his adopted parents had gotten confirming he was The Thorn, it was no mistaking that it was him.

Crowley’s outfit was black, had fishnets, and could barely been considered an outfit. So of course, it was a hit. At the end of his shift, his clothing was overflowing with twenty, fifty, even hundred dollar bills.

He didn't get home until about one in the morning, which was fairly normal for Crowley. On the way up to his apartment, he grabbed his mail which consisted of bills, bills, junk, ominous black envelope, junk, junk, junk, and bills. He clearly hadn't checked his mailbox for a few days.

Crowley and his stack of mail walked into his apartment where he had to carefully walk over some random piles of clothes and rubbish. Crowley had hit a slump of depression and had not cleaned in days, but this had nearly become the norm for him. Nearly.

Crowley slammed the stack of mail onto the counter and opened up the black envelope, quite intrigued by the mysterious appearance of it. He carelessly ripped it open and looked at the paper stored inside.

_‘Anthony,_

Crowley scowled at the use of his first name.

_Congratulations on being born The Thorn._

_Here is where you need to be within seven days, and the coordinates of this location. Good luck, and may you work with The Rose to select the best person to be freed._

_Sincerely,_

_STEM.'_

Crowley's first thought was, _I'm the obvious choice to keep in the world. It wouldn't be the same without me._

But then he considered the option that The Rose may possibly be more worthy than him, but Crowley shut down that idea quickly and deemed it impossible. Crowley's worth to the world was immeasurable! He was gay and sexy. How could you beat that?

He looked at the address and shrugged. It was too damn late to go travel at this hour, but hey, the location was in the UK somewhere so he wouldn't have to take too long. Long distance teleportation took a few minutes, which was a few minutes too long. The whole time you had to look at a ton of flashy colours which wasn't fun.

Crowley went to his room, kicked off his boots, aggressively smeared off some his makeup with a single wipe, then flopped down onto his bed. He was the CEO of the ‘appreciates skincare but not too much’ club. Crowley was too exhausted to life, so he closed his eyes and quickly went to sleep.

***

_Friday, 27th of June, 2380._

Aziraphale had taken a plane to the city of Novissimus, a city at the top of England which was a new blend of two cities which had decided to integrate into one. The city was only fifty years old, and its general existence sparked Aziraphale's interest.

He had come alone. Aziraphale's goodbyes to his parents were tough, and it was harder to bid farewell to his friends who had no idea where he was going or why. He hadn't uttered a word about the possibility that he would be gone forever, but sooner or later, they would discover who Aziraphale truly was. Someone he had hidden his whole life.

Before he had left, his parents had advised, _"If anything happens, call us. You know what to say."_

Aziraphale checked into the hotel he had booked, and he took the elevator to his floor. As he walked down the hall, someone was walking down the other sides, and Aziraphale suddenly stopped in his tracks. He felt his rose mark give a strange sensation as he looked at the person.

"Crowley?"

The man stopped in his tracks and stared at Aziraphale. He knew that he was staring even with those rounded sunglasses, because Aziraphale could feel it burning into him. Neither of them said anything for a solid minute.

"Aziraphale," Crowley said, verbally acknowledging the other man.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Aziraphale said.

"Yeah."

Well. This is awkward.

The thing is that Crowley and Aziraphale had had a thing. And the thing is that said thing did not end on amazing terms. Long story short, Crowley and Aziraphale had dated for a year and ended their relationship when Crowley got blackout drunk and cheated. Aziraphale just couldn't forgive him, even though Crowley had begged and promised he would never do it again. He was telling the truth - he would have never cheated again. But too Aziraphale, it was no excuse, which is completely fair of course.

And the thing is, Aziraphale was the only one who _didn't_ know that Crowley is The Thorn.

"So, how have you been?" Aziraphale asked to break the deafening silence that had fallen between them.

"Er, okay, you?"

"I've been better," Aziraphale answered. "What brings you here?"

Crowley shrugged. "Boredom. I finally wanted to check out the newest city in the UK. You?"

 _There is no way he is knowing I'm one of The Chosen,_ both Crowley and Aziraphale thought.

"I wished to do the same," Aziraphale answered. "It's very interesting."

"Yeah. Well, bye Aziraphale."

"Goodbye, Crowley."

The pair swiftly scurried away from each other. Aziraphale felt his heart fluttering in his chest; he still had romantic feelings for Crowley. Everything about him made Aziraphale's knees feel weak, he was just so _perfect._

As Crowley walked back to his room, he ducked his head from habit in order to try to hide his blush that was the same colour as his hair. There was no way he had gotten over Aziraphale - he was one of the cutest and sweetest people out there, and Crowley had fucked up badly to have lost him.

Crowley and Aziraphale went to their own separate rooms on the same floor of the hotel and they settled in before going to bed. And, the whole time, they were on each other's mind.

***

_Wednesday, 2nd of July, 2380._

Today was the day that The Chosen would meet face-to-face at the selected location. It was supposed to be the first time that they had met, but for what was probably the first time ever, The Rose and The Thorn had known each other prior to their first meeting. It was a rare phenomenon - out of anywhere in the world it could have been, The Chosen had both known each other, and furthermore, loved each other.

Aziraphale took a bus from the hotel that he had slept at to the address. On the way, he listened to his playlist titled '~gay men vibes~' by another user on Spotify. It had a good choice of songs that were all about men loving men, so of course, the entire bus trip Aziraphale's mind was set on Crowley. Seeing him had made his feelings which he had only just gotten rid of flare right up again.

Aziraphale got off at the bus stop that was just down the street from the location of the meeting. Sure, he could have teleported to a teleport pod which was probably closer than a bus stop, but Aziraphale preferred to take more 'old-fashioned' methods of transport. He walked down the road, keeping an eye on the building numbers as he progressed down the street. He stopped at the building that was the right address.

_37 Periculum Street, West Vertere, Novissimus City._

The place was a large building that seemed to be old and slowly decaying. The windows were broken and there were large gaps in the grey wall where there was _not_ supposed to be holes. The entire part of the property that Aziraphale could see had an ominous tinge to it that made his spine tingle, and not in a good way. He took a deep breath. He reasoned with himself, _it's not like the world has room for a pristine building to be dedicated to this... Right?_

Aziraphale looked down and realized that there were a few people gathered nearby, staring at him approaching the building, all pointing cameras and phones in his direction. It made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Are you one of them?" someone called out.

"I'm not answering that," Aziraphale responded, even though he did technically answer the question. He turned down the pathway leading to the entrance of the building, scurrying quickly and trying his best to ignore the people insensitively shouting at him and pointing cameras. Why were people so wild about The Thorn and The Rose anyway? It shouldn't be a big thing. Probably because of how much the whole concept is hyped up by the media.

_I wish I could ask them to be quiet and put their cameras away, since I am so uncomfortable, but I don't want to start any sort of confrontation right before the meeting... Is this even legal? Ugh._

Aziraphale picked up his pace and walked into the building. Inside, he saw a lady in a white suit talking to a man in mirroring attire. They both turned and look at Aziraphale, who recognized the notorious logo threaded into their suits - a rose with prominent thorns. They were some sort of representatives or workers from STEM.

"Ah, Aziraphale, you're here," the lady greeted. Her hair was dark brown and done up in a neat bun. "My name is Bela, and this is Evian. And before you ask, no, not like the water company. But that is beside the point - it's nice to meet The Rose in person."

"Er, thanks," Aziraphale replied with an awkward dip of his head in a sign of respect for the woman.

"No need to do that, I should be paying you _my_ respects," Bela said.

"Oh. Okay. So how does this all work? Where is The Thorn?"

"You'll see. For now, go down that hallway-" she pointed to the closest hallway, "- and turn into the third door on the left. Wait there for your next instructions from the speaker in the room."

Aziraphale nodded. That seemed easy enough. "Alright. Thank you, Bela. It was nice to meet you."

"You too, it was nice to see The Rose before the meeting begins," she replied. "Oh, Aziraphale, before you go - you have to hand in any sort of devices or accessories that you have on you. Don't fret, you'll get it back later.”

Aziraphale nodded, feeling confused, but he complied anyway, handing his phone into a box she provided. There were a rounded pair of sunglasses in there too. Perhaps they simply wanted to ensure the meeting is completely private, apart from those who needed to hear in order to give the Chosen instructions. He dug into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his phone which he handed to Bela before turning and walking away. Evian's silence during that entire conversation was admittedly unsettling, but he shrugged it off. That still did not excuse how creepy this building was, and how part of him was begging to turn back and get the out of there.

Aziraphale entered the room that he was told to, and he sat down on the chair that was in there. Apart from the chair, the room had been stripped to a bare minimum - there was literally no other furniture inside of it apart from the speakers. Aziraphale was expecting an actual speaker, probably Bluetooth, but nope. The speaker was a loudspeaker up in the corner, positioned how a security camera would be. Aziraphale didn't like how it was staring right at him.

Aziraphale waited in apprehensive silence. He didn't want to be sent into isolation for the rest of his life, but the chances for him to be were high. He pushed away the pessimistic thoughts as best as he could, but they just kept coming back

"Hello to The Thorn and The Rose."

The sudden voice broke the silence and made Aziraphale jump.

"In a moment, one wall will lower and you will be face to face with the other Chosen, where you can introduce yourself to each other. Once you do, you will be given further instructions."

"Okay, er, thank you," Aziraphale responded to the voice. He looked around and, just as promised, one of the walls began to lower right in front of his eyes. "I didn't know a building this old was capable of this," he mumbled to himself.

As the wall lowered, Aziraphale stared intently. He was excited to see who The Thorn was, even with the cost of his freedom on the line. The pacing was too slow! But it did help with the suspense, which was something Aziraphale had to give to them.

_Okay, this person has short red hair..._

Aziraphale's face went pale as The Thorn's face was revealed.

"Crowley!?" Aziraphale gasped out, shock coursing through his veins. Never had Aziraphale would have guessed that his former lover, out of anyone on the Earth, was The Thorn.

"Aziraphale! You're The Rose!?"

Aziraphale swiftly took stop steps forward towards Crowley, who quickly did the same. They met each other in the middle of the room where the wall had just completely dropped, and they stared into each other's eyes which were equally as wide. Aziraphale's birthmark began to glow brightly, visible even through his shirt. He noticed a glowing coming from Crowley's thigh from the corner of his eye, confirmed with a quick glance downwards.

"B-Buh, but, I didn't know, why, why didn't I know!?" Aziraphale asked.

"Everyone knew except you. I was just so scared that it would make you run away," Crowley admitted. "But now I see that fear was stupid. I'm sorry, angel."

 _Angel._ That old name made Aziraphale feel warm, even if Crowley had worn it out, fixed it up, sold it to a thrift store, bought it back, then wore it out again.

“The fear wasn’t stupid, I mean, I did the same. Don’t be sorry,” was Aziraphale’s reply.

"How come you did not inform _me_ that _you_ are The Rose?" Crowley asked. "How did you even hide it so well?"

"Many layers of bandages and makeup," Aziraphale responded. "Worry not, the bandages didn't go across my chest horizontally, and it was loose too, so it was safe. To answer your first question, it was simply a secret that no one knew."

"How did you hide it when we did particular activities?" Crowley asked, his cheeks going pink at his own question.

"Lots and lots of makeup, strategic hand placement, and just coaxing you to look at my face in general," Aziraphale answered. "Anywho, this doesn't all matter. Crowley, we have to choose one of us to go into quarantine for the rest of our days."

"Well, I mean, can't we just both go?" Crowley asked. “I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my days with you, if I’m being honest.”

Aziraphale was flattered and flustered by this comment, but shook his head. "One pair tried in the past, so STEM chose based on who was more useful to society."

"Yikes, it must have stung to have been chosen for that," Crowley asked, sucking air in sharply through the corners of his mouth. "To go into quarantine, I mean. I suppose they always want their Chosen One to show off to society."

Being chosen to remain in society as The Thorn or The Rose sets you for a life of being exploited so STEM could make money off of you. The whole world will know your face, forever. Some may enjoy the idea of that, but Aziraphale and Crowley did not. Even despite Crowley's crave for attention, he did not want _that_ much attention towards him, no matter how shocking that may be. Every Rose or Thorn to ever emerge, Aziraphale had observed, had a haunted look in their eye. As if there was more to this all than people knew. He never knew what it could be - the STEM's ways seemed so simple, so one dimensional.

"Crowley-"

"Anthony and Aziraphale," the voice over the loudspeakers cut in. "As you may know, you have to work out between the two of you who gets to return back to society."

Aziraphale said, "Yes, I-"

"Please let me finish, Aziraphale. I have to inform you that the selection is done a bit... Differently to what you have been brought up to know it to be."

That is a definitely a red flag. Aziraphale suddenly felt anxious, more so than before, and he looked at Crowley then up at the loudspeaker with a newfound fear. Crowley's eyes reflected that same fear and he glanced from Aziraphale to the speaker.

"Please step away from the centre. Something will drop from the ceiling."

Crowley and Aziraphale receded, and the ceiling opened up. From it fell a bottle of water, two small packets of chips... And two daggers and two guns.

"W-What is all this?" Aziraphale asked, not believing his eyes. It couldn't...

"Only one of you is getting out of this room alive. Good luck."

The ceiling closed back up, and both doors clicked - confirming that they were locked from the outside. Cold, chilling fear was running through Aziraphale's body.

"No. _No._ It does not end like this! It does _not_!" Crowley yelled out with rage. He smashed his fist against the wall. Meanwhile, Aziraphale slowly fell to the floor onto his knees. His entire body was shaking out of control, and his eyes were flooding with tears that streamed down his raspberry cheeks.

Crowley glanced towards The Rose and had to do a double take before rushing over to him. He dropped down on his knees beside him and cupped Aziraphale's face in his hands. "Hey, hey, Aziraphale, it's okay, it's okay."

Aziraphale shook his head. "It is clearly _not_ okay. One of us is going to die. Crowley, I don't want to kill you."

"I know, I know," Crowley said softly. "Hey, shh, shh, it's okay..." He pressed his forehead against Aziraphale's and looked into his teary eyes. He wiped away some of his tears. "It will be okay, Aziraphale, we can think of something. Deep breaths, okay? Breathe with me."

Crowley began to breathe deeply, in and out, and Aziraphale started doing the same. It worked for about a minute, but a fresh wave of panic rolled over Aziraphale and his breathing sped up again.

"Can I hold you?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale nodded, unable to speak, and Crowley pulled him into his lap. He wrapped his arms around him and held him close. Aziraphale and Crowley held onto each other, and no matter how hard Crowley tried to avoid the circumstances, he couldn't hold. The thought of having to _kill_ the trembling man in his arms was too much for him to handle.

_We're barely even adults; we are just twenty years old... In America, we wouldn't even be allowed to drink yet._

Crowley looked like he was seriously fighting back tears that threatened to overflow. And, alas, they did. "We're fucked, Aziraphale, I'm sorry, I know you’re having a breakdown and all, but we are _fucked_."

Aziraphale sobbed harder, and both men clutched onto each other harder and held on for dear life as they wept. He forced himself to take a deep breath, and he rubbed his eyes before looking at Crowley.

Aziraphale whispered, "Crowley, it can't be over. We have to get out of here."

Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale's cheek, staring deeply into his eyes. "Yes, Aziraphale, we have to - but how? There are no handles on this side of those doors. That's why I said we are fucked!"

Aziraphale looked up at the ceiling, and of course, there was a camera. Crowley's eyes followed Aziraphale's, and he looked up at the camera as well

"We need to think of a plan," Aziraphale said. Crowley nodded with agreement and furrowed his eyebrows, which suddenly flew up as a plan crossed his mind.

"I have a plan, but it's not safe to be obviously conspiring," Crowley said after some thought. "Can I kiss your neck, Aziraphale?"

"I- _what_?"

"Well, can I?"

"Yes," Aziraphale replied, confused but having complete faith in Crowley and where his head was at nonetheless.

Crowley tiltled Aziraphale's head back with gentle hands before going ahead with what he wished to do. Now, there was a cover so they could speak without continuing to be suspicious, and Crowley could reveal his plan. Crowley decided he was a genius for thinking of this.

"We grab the guns and take out the camera," Crowley mumbled against Aziraphale's neck before planting a hickey.

Aziraphale understood why Crowley had asked to start kissing his neck. _It would make them think we whispered and looked at the camera to ponder if we should undergo acts that would be embarrassing if others saw them. Crowley is a genius!_

"How do we get the door open?" Aziraphale asked before closing his eyes and tipping his head back further, to sell the act of him being into it. Which, he was, but that sort of thing was not on his conscious mind. There were more important things at hand. "Perhaps it doesn't have an actual handle, _but_ the metal bit from the lock and handle to keep it in the door is there. We could shoot that."

"Shooting a lock is very dangerous," Crowley replied, continuing his fairly gentle kisses. "And it barely works anyway. We shoot the hinges; both of them, and the door should come clean off. If the hinges don't fall with two bullets, we smash open the door."

"How do you know that?"

"Don't ask."

"Erm, okay."

"I say we wait for a while. Maybe one of us can sit against the door and listen to if there are guards," Crowley said. "Because there would be. We find out how many they are and when they stop.”

"Okay, it's a plan," Aziraphale said. "I feel like this is too easy to get done, Crowley. Wouldn't pairs in the past have tried to escape too?"

Crowley pulled away from Aziraphale's neck - their cover for whispering had been enough to be convincing - and gazed into his eyes with a solemn look. "You have too much faith in people."

"Crowley, I-"

"Hey, it's alright," Crowley said. "I know you try to see the good in people. I'm just not the same, because I'm sexy like that."

Aziraphale was somber until that last section of the sentence, where he snorted and stifled a laugh. "For sure."

"I'm on door duty," Crowley said, relocating to the door where he sat against it. "We shouldn't eat until later tonight, or tomorrow if possible. Try to stay away from the water, too. We need to save it for as long as we can."

"Alright," Aziraphale said. He glanced up at the camera before looking back at Crowley. "I am still perplexed that out of all people... It's you."

"A very small chance, but not impossible," Crowley mused. “After all, we were born in the right year. Kinda shocking we never figured each other out, if you ask me.”

 _I just hope that this will not be the last place we see each other_ , Aziraphale thought.

********* **

_Friday, 4th of July, 2380._

Two days had passed, and Aziraphale and Crowley were almost out of water. They decided that it was time to cease their waiting and escape. They had figured out the guard's shifts, and that between every swap, there was a two minute interval where there were no guards posted at the door. At the next interval, they would escape.

Neither of them had touched the guns or the knives until this moment. Crowley grabbed a pistol and checked how many bullets it has. "One, two, three..."

As Crowley counted, Aziraphale stared at the bottle of water. If - no, when - they escape, neither of them would know the next time that they would be able to have access to water. Perhaps from a water fountain in a public park, but all things considered, only time could tell.

"Six bullets in both," Crowley suddenly announced.

"Enough to kill, for sure," Aziraphale said, making his voice sound sad to continue selling the lie that they were going to fight for the death. Anyone with any sense at all would realise that Crowley and Aziraphale would never harm each other in any way, but if you were someone who would work for some sort of organisation full of plot holes and injustice like STEM, you would have no sense.

Crowley walked over to Aziraphale and handed him a gun, and then they both stood staring at each other in the center of the room. _Act well, Aziraphale_ , The Rose told himself.

"Crowley... Please reconsider a showdown, I really do want to live," Aziraphale begged. He could see a flicker of pain in Crowley's eyes, maybe even just that line tugged at his heartstrings. "Don't kill me."

"We both want to live, Aziraphale," Crowley said with an edge to his tone, the glint of pain fading as quickly as it came. He raised his gun. "But only one of us can."

With shaky hands, Aziraphale raised his pistol in turn, pointing it at Crowley's heart. "Then _it must be me_."

They had their guns pointed at each other, finger resting on the trigger. It looked like at any moment, one would shoot, and this whole thing would be over. Instead, in one swift moment, Crowley pointed his gun at the camera and shot it, all while maintaining eye contact with Aziraphale.

"Done," Crowley said. "Now that wasn't hard. Good job acting, Aziraphale," Crowley said before he faced the door.

"Thank you, the same goes for you," Aziraphale responded. He bent down and grabbed the two packets of chips and the bottle of water. _I hope this is enough for us to survive._ He stood up straight and turned towards Crowley, who was aiming at the door hinges. Crowley shot both hinges and, as predicted, the door became loose and fell off out of its frame.

Aziraphale stood up and dashed towards Crowley, who took Aziraphale's hand and grasped it tightly. The touch sent a pleasant tingle throughout both of them, but this was not the time to be gay. The two exchanged guns in a swift yet cautious movement so Crowley - the one with gun experience - could have the larger amount of bullets. Crowley took the lead and darted out of the prison-like room that they were trapped in, where people expected The Chosen to _kill each other_ in.

Crowley led them down the right passage of the hallway, keeping a tight grip on Aziraphale's hand, nearly as if he was afraid of letting go. Aziraphale held his gun in his hand, ready to shoot if need be. He didn't know if he could actually bring himself to shoot someone, but at least the threat of him having a gun was there. Why they were even allowed guns in the first place was beyond him, but there was no time to stop and ponder.

At the end of the hallway there was a large, broken window. _Perfect for escaping out of without needing to fight anyone!_

"Crowley," Aziraphale said, skidding to a halt and tugging on Crowley's arm. "Let's jump out of the window. If we go out there, we won't have to fight anyone, so we can sneak out and save bullets."

Crowley looked towards the window. "Okay. We are on only the first floor, so we should be fine. You go first, m'kay Aziraphale? Climb out feet first. And be careful. Don't cut yourself on any of the glass," he cautioned.

"I’ll be careful," Aziraphale said. He took a deep breath, then approached the window with haste, where he barely took the time to observe its horrible yet strangely aesthetic state. Remnants of what was once solid stone crumbled around the sill, scattered on the ground amongst ridged glass shards. Crowley followed, assisting Aziraphale by lifting him up onto the window sill after ensuring that there was no glass that could puncture Aziraphale. He carefully climbed out of it backwards, shimmying to the ground with his stomach against the building.

Aziraphale’s feet hit the surprisingly soft ground, and he looked down to see grass squashed beneath his shoes. He sidestepped to make way for Crowley who, being the person he is, got up onto the sill then launched himself forward, landing on his hands. He did a handspring, summersaulting through the air with a bewildered Aziraphale staring at him with wide eyes. Crowley landed perfectly on his feet and took a bow towards the fence line.

Aziraphale’s eyes followed where Crowley was looking. _There’s still media here! Maybe we could tell them…_

“Don’t listen to STEM, please!” Aziraphale yelled at the cameras that were now trained on him. “They wanted us to kill each other to determine who gets to stay. No one is quarantined, everyone who lost is dead! _Dead_! They are lying to you!”

As soon as Aziraphale yelled his warning, he saw guards explode from out of the building in a large streaming file of men. Men headed right towards Crowley and Aziraphale. Not only had they exposed the secret, but badmouthing the STEM like that publically had the potential to get someone punished.

“Run!” Crowley screamed, giving Aziraphale a gentle shove forward. Aziraphale had to recollect his racing thoughts before he began to ran as fast as he could. His brain was so fuzzed up that Aziraphale barely registered when Crowley clamped onto his hand. Aziraphale had to speed up to keep up with Crowley’s long strides, and this was one of the rare times that Aziraphale cursed his chubbiness and short drumstick legs.

Crowley made sure to never let go of Aziraphale’s hand, and as soon as Aziraphale squeezed back, it was a silent confirmation between the two that they would not let go of each other. If one stops for whatever reason, they both stop until any issues are resolved; they had to stick together. It was imperative.

Crowley and Aziraphale ran into a shopping mall where they could get lost in the crowd. There were large swarms of people all going about their day, the perfect cover.

“We should get hair dye to colour our hair,” Aziraphale piped. “Our current colours are too easy to spot, especially together.”

“Aziraphale, we don’t have time for that,” Crowley replied, navigating his way through the crowd in a non-polite way. “I don’t have much cash apart from tonight’s hotel money. We can get into the shop, buy some water and I dunno, fucking crackers, and then we _go_. But good thinking,” he added. “It’s your smart thinking that will keep us alive.”

Something crossed Aziraphale’s mind. “We’re fugitives now, aren’t we?”

“Duh.”

“Oh…”

“Let’s get what we need and go,” Crowley said, clearly not bothered by the subject. But Aziraphale was, he was very bothered by this indeed. All of his life, Aziraphale had been good. Perfect grades, never did anything wrong – his record was completely clean. Aziraphale was as pure as sugar, and some would say he was like an angel.

Of course, Crowley was on the other side of the coin – bad grades and notorious in his and Aziraphale’s hometown as a troublemaker. Crowley was bad and tainted, and some would say he was a little demon.

Crowley headed inside of the closest grocery store with Aziraphale in his stride. They split up to cover more ground quickly, and together, they got bottled water, crackers, chips, a blanket, bread, and canned tuna. Aziraphale had also got a chocolate bar and a bag of cookies for the sake of his sweet tooth. Tuna sandwiches weren’t going to taste very nice, but they grabbed what they could quickly that also wouldn’t go off quickly.

Aziraphale and Crowley met back up at the self-serve section, where they paid and then left the shops quickly. Aziraphale held the two bags full of shopping, and his other hand was holding Crowley’s as they power walked to the opposite exit of the one that they had entered the mall in. Crowley had to have one of his hands free in case they were attacked and he needed to defend Aziraphale.

Together, the Thorn and the Rose hopped on a bus that travelled to the outskirts of the city. Teleportation was more risky to use as it had facial recognition devices in order to discourage criminals from using them, and of course Crowley knew this and was in fact the one to suggest taking a bus. The pair sat near the back of the bus, keeping their heads down as they huddled together. Crowley was thinking about how sometime soon would probably be a good time to ask Aziraphale if he wanted to get back together with him.

Near the edge of the city, there was a run-down hotel with a flickering sign. It was obviously old and was on its last legs, and it looked pretty suspicious too. _Perfect,_ Crowley thought, _this should be cheap as hell._

“Let’s stay there,” Crowley said. “It looks like trash but it’d be cheap.”

“You’re right,” Aziraphale agreed, pressing the ‘stop at next stop’ button. At the next stop which was just up the road from the hotel, the bus slowed to a halt. Aziraphale and Crowley stood up and quickly left the bus. Side by side, they looked up at it.

“Is staying here _really_ a good idea, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, beginning to have second doubts about staying at a hotel in such poor condition. “We can just find a bridge to sleep under, I mean, look at it. It seems extremely unhygienic.”

“Well…” As Crowley was looking at it, he noticed a sign that said ‘café’. “Look, it has a café attached to it,” he told Aziraphale. “We can go and order something, and then you can decide if we can stay or not. Accordin’ to the sign next to it, a room is only fifty bucks.”

“Alright, that sounds fair,” Aziraphale said. “Let’s do it.”

They walked to the hotel and walked inside of the café section of it, hand in hand of course. Aziraphale smelt the air. It didn’t smell the cleanest, but there was no distinct bad smell. In fact, as the door to the kitchen opened as a staff member emerged; a waft of tasty food hit his nose. He inhaled deeply.

“Let’s sit there,” Crowley said, nodding towards a booth in the corner. At Azirapale’s approving hum, they walked to the booth and sat down on opposite sides.

“This might be the best food we’re gonna get in a while,” Crowley said, “So make it count. I have more than enough since this place is so cheap.”

“Alright.” Aziraphale picked up the menu on the counter and made a choice, and Crowley mirrored his actions. Aziraphale decided to go with meat ribs, crepes, and chips – a fairly strange mix, but it is what it is - whilst Crowley just went for some “chickie nuggies” and chips. They placed their order and the waiter serving them gave them free water.

Aziraphale, knowing that he and Crowley had to preserve the water that they had, drank two cups.

“Drink, Crowley, so we won’t crave as much later on,” Aziraphale coaxed.

“A’ight,” Crowley said. He poured himself a little bit of water and downed it like a shot. At Aziraphale’s unsatisfied stare, Crowley sighed and drank a full glass.

It wasn’t long until the waiter returned with their food, setting it down on the table in front of the men. Aziraphale picked up a rib and ate it, letting out a hum of enjoyment. “This is scrumptious,” he mumbled after swallowing his mouthful. “This place certainly has deceiving looks.”

Crowley stuffed three chicken nuggets into his mouth at once, and replied while he was chewing, “Yeah, this is pretty damn good. Oi, Aziraphale, weren’t you vegetarian?”

“I was,” he sighed. “Sadly, I couldn’t continue that lifestyle because I lack a lot of iron in my blood. I tried foods like spinach but it just was not enough. I feel bad, knowing I must eat these poor animals, but I don’t have a choice.”

“Ah, okay,” Crowley said. “I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind talking about it,” Aziraphale replied.

“Cool.”

When the two were done eating their meals and thinking about they should spend the night at the hotel or not, the TV in the café was turned on to the news channel. Crowley, Aziraphale, and the few other customers turned towards it to watch.

_“… This just in, the Thorn and the Rose have just fled from their designated meeting place. They had allegedly escaped, knocked out a security guard, and jumped out of a window.”_

The screen showed a bruised security guard.

“That must have been the guard switching in, he would’ve been punched both as a punishment for letting us go and for a fake story,” Crowley mumbled. “Aziraphale, we need to get out of here, _now_.”

“ _The escape goes against the laws of STEM enforced by government officials, that state that an example to the public_ has _to be made or else the program is at no use.”_

The screen switched to Bela. “ _We will do what it takes to find these two_ ,” she said sternly. “ _And we will choose the one to be quarantined for them. The other will be facing at least five years in prison_.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Crowley breathed. “Aziraphale, we need to go, _now_.”

“Wait, we should see what else they say,” Aziraphale said.

 _“What do you make of this clip?”_ The news reporter asked Bela, who leaned in to something behind the camera. On the TV screen showed the end of Crowley’s summersault, then Aziraphale’s screaming at the cameras trained on the building.

“ _Oh, that is just lies_ ,” Bela replied. “ _These men are armed and dangerous. If you see any signs of them, report it to the police immediately_.”

On the screen popped up photos of Crowley and Aziraphale’s faces.

“Fuck,” Crowley hissed. “Aziraphale, _now._ ”

Crowley and Aziraphale stood up, leaving the money for the food plus a tip on the table.

“Hey, those are the two from the news!” a man in the diner yelled out.

 _Fuck fuck fuuuck!_ Crowley thought. Crowley latched onto Aziraphale’s hand and Aziraphale clutched their shopping bags. Together, before someone could intercept them, they sprinted out of the café. Crowley and Aziraphale both ran as fast as they possibly could, and Aziraphale pointed to a bus pulling up on the bus stop on the other side of the road.

“There,” he said. “We can get on that bus and get off at a place we can stay.”

“Let’s go,” Crowley said, changing their course of direction towards the road. “No cars, don’t stop,” he said to Aziraphale before running across the road with him. They skidded to a halt in front of the bus and Crowley ushered Aziraphale in first. Crowley paid rushedly before joining Aziraphale in a seat near the rear of the bus.

“That was close,” Aziraphale said between pants. “I apologise for not leaving when you said we should. I just wanted to see how much the media knows and decided to share.”

“Well, at least we know that they know our faces now, and what we’re in for if we get caught,” Crowley replied. “Maybe hair dye wasn’t a bad idea.”

Aziraphale gave a nod as a response, his chest still heaving with every fairly strained breath. He looked at Crowley who was looking distantly out of the window, and although he was trying to hide it, there was worry hinted in his eye. Aziraphale reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of black, rounded sunglasses, and he placed them on Crowley’s face. Crowley looked at Aziraphale in surprise.

“You- You got my glasses back? How?” Crowley asked, perplexed.

“Not quite. In the store, I… I _stole_ them.”

Crowley’s eyes flew wide open. “You _what_?”

“It was just a heat of the moment sort of deal, I know how much you like those glasses, and I knew they would be good for hiding your eyes and-“

Crowley cut him off with, “Aziraphale, that is _so_ badass, I never thought that someone like you would be _capable_ of stealing. Why give em to me now?”

“It’s a better time now than ever,” Aziraphale said with a shrug. So it was official. They were both criminals with STEM involved or not.

***

That night, Crowley and Aziraphale resided under a bridge, huddled close to each other. Over them was draped their blanket that they had cocooned around themselves to ensure they were as warm as they could possibly be with their limited resources. The blanket wasn’t very high quality and scratched and irritated Aziraphale’s skin, but he didn’t care if it meant getting through the night. Crowley had taken off his sunglasses, revealing his golden flaked eyes.

Aziraphale was craning his neck out from underneath the bridge and looked up at the great, big, mystical sky. The forever mysterious black coat draped over the land, freckled with an array of pure white dapples that brought a dim night light.

“How did we get into this mess?”

Aziraphale barely had a second thought as the words slipped out. He looked thoughtful, and he felt Crowley’s grip around him grow tighter.

“We were born.”

Aziraphale sighed as he shifted in Crowley’s arms. _He’s right._

“Well… I don’t regret being born. I’ve gotten to see so many beautiful things. I’ve seen the remnants of nature, the sky, mountains… I have seen so many gorgeous things. Yet I don’t think any of those can match _your_ beauty, Crowley.”

Crowley’s cheeks immediately became fiery, nearly the shade of his hair, at this unexpected flirting. “N-No you,” is all he could splutter out in response.

Aziraphale smiled softly at Crowley’s blushing, feeling some sense of accomplishment at the sight his red cheeks, but it faded as he started to think about their past. “Crowley, do you regret it?”

“Regret what? You’re gonna have ta be more specific.”

“Do you regret cheating on me?”

Crowley looked surprised at the question, but that was quickly washed out by a pained expression. “Yes, of course. Every single day. It was such a stupid fucking mistake that I can’t take back, and I am still so sorry, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale knew that Crowley was being genuine, and this regret ran deep and had haunted him. Even after the betrayal that had plagued both Aziraphale and Crowley with heartbreak due to differing reasons, Aziraphale knew deep down that his love for Crowley never wavered. It was unquestionable. Ineffable, even. Like wondering whether the sun would rise in the morning or not.

“I forgive you, Anthony,” Aziraphale murmured, cupping Crowley’s cheek softly. Only Aziraphale could call him that, and he used the nickname sparingly.

“ _Thank you._ ”

Aziraphale smiled and brushed his supple thumb over Crowley’s cheek softly and rhythmically, and in turn, Crowley leaned into the romantic touch and closed his striking eyes. After a few heartbeats passed, Crowley opened them again, and now he was gazing at Aziraphale with a sweet smile dancing on his lips.

Aziraphale was beginning to lean in without realising, and as soon as Crowley caught wind of this, he leaned in and kissed Aziraphale with no hesitance. Aziraphale cupped both of Crowley’s cheeks as he kissed back immediately, an old fire he had longed for so immensely rushing throughout his body. Aziraphale’s eyes shut and Crowley’s grip on him tightened.

The kiss was broken only to breathe, with Aziraphale tearing away and softly gasping. He looked at Crowley who had that old loving look he always had on after they kissed in the past.

Aziraphale missed those days – gentle sunlight shining down on himself and Crowley as they cuddled in the grass on a hill, staring up at the sky and describing clouds, exchanging small kisses and compliments. Cold winter nights with the heater on and he and Crowley buried under a mountain of blankets, snuggling up close and clinging to each other for warmth as they occasionally lifted the covers to breathe. Sitting against the roots of a tree, a gentle gail stirring their hair, Crowley dozing off with his head in Aziraphale’s lap as Aziraphale read a book, no sound except the flicking of a page, rustling leaves and distant birds.

“Are you okay?” Crowley asked, his eyes glistening with concern.

“Yes, I am quite alright,” Aziraphale reassured him. “I am just missing the days where we could live carefree, just living our best lives. If I knew that this would happen, I would have never left you.”

“Aziraphale, believe me, you had a good reason to leave me,” Crowley said quickly. “I cheated. That was on me. _Not your fault_.”

Aziraphale gave a hesitant nod, and he softly agreed by saying, “Alright, Crowley.” He was about to add _if you’re sure_ but that would just make the conversation drag on, and Crowley was certainly never going to start blaming Aziraphale for the response to his own wrongdoings.

“Get some shut-eye, Aziraphale,” Crowley encouraged. “We need to be high on sleep for the morning.”

“You mean well rested,” The Rose corrected.

“Yeah… Whatever.”

Aziraphale took that as the end of the conversation and he closed his eyes, and before long, he slipped into a deep sleep right in Crowley’s comforting arms.

_Aziraphale was sitting with Crowley under a tree, the two enjoying the company of the other whilst they did their own things. More specifically, Crowley was scrolling through social media and Aziraphale was reading a book. They were sitting on a blanket Aziraphale had knitted himself, an unpretentious thing but still comfortable, and done with precise craftsmanship._

_Aziraphale was watching himself and his lover put down their preoccupations and fall asleep under the tree. Their careless bliss was phantasmagorical. Moments later, dark shadows swarmed all around the two Aziraphale was watching, engulfing them both and drowning them in a sea of black. Aziraphale’s stomach plummeted as he reached out in an attempt to save himself, but his hands could not feel anything, even as he scraped his hand through the mist._

_The shadowy mist evaporated and at the base of the tree remained naught but a blanket._

Aziraphale’s eyes shot open and he sprung upright into a sitting position. There was a storm brewing in his stomach, an endless pit swirling with a bad gut feeling. His instincts were screaming that something is wrong, and that it is imperative that he and Crowley flee. “We have to go,” he said, glancing over towards the skyline. The sun was steadily beginning to rise; he and Crowley had slept throughout the night. “ _Now._ We have to go.”

Crowley, asleep, snored.

Aziraphale shook the ginger by the shoulders with blatant urgency. “Wake up!”

Crowley, asleep and unbothered, snored louder.

“Crowley, wake up,” Aziraphale assisted, prodding Crowley roughly all over his face.

Crowley groaned and he sluggishly cracked open one of his eyes. “Mmgh… Ughh, whaaat? Zira, the sun has only just started coming up, let me sleep more.”

“No, Crowley, _please_ just get up. I had a nightmare but it- it was more than a nightmare, I had some sort of _vision_ something bad is going to happen, I _know_ something bad is going to happen so we need to _go._ ”

“Woah, woah, slow down there, Diggs,” Crowley said warily in response to Aziraphale’s muddled tumble of words, sitting up to look at his disarrayed companion. “No need to go rappin’ now, okay? Take your time. Now, what were you saying?”

“I saw in my dreams that something terrible will happen to us, we have to get out of here,” Aziraphale said, now pacing his words slower so Crowley knows what he was rambling about. “We need to get out of here, Crow, c’mon.”

“You rarely call me Crow,” he said under his breath. “Are you sure it wasn’t a bad dream, Aziraphale? No one would look for us here, at least not for now, we shouldn’t start to move into plain sight now.

“I just _know_ , okay? I’ve had these kinds of dreams before. Remember that time we were going to go on a two night trip in the mountains, and I claimed to be sick? I never told you why I absolutely refused to go, and then the next day a tree had fallen right into the very campsite we were going to camp at. I never told you I had dreamt of it beforehand. I didn’t want to tell you because I was scared about what you would think of me. I’ve dreamt of these things before, Crowley, just trust me.”

“You don’t have to ever be scared to tell me anything,” Crowley mumbled, then said louder. “Okay, Aziraphale, I believe you. I just wanted to be careful because going out in public isn’t a good idea without a good reason.”

“I understand. Let’s pack up and go now, p-“

“ _That’s them!”_

A nearby cry made Aziraphale nearly shudder as fear flooded through him.

“They found us, Crowley, they’re here, we’re done, Crowley, w-“

“Shh! It’s okay, get up, we have to get outta here,” Crowley said, stuffing their belongings in his bag then springing up onto his feet. He quickly bent down and pulled Aziraphale up to his feet and Crowley grasped his hand.

Gradually closing in on the pair were men dressed in jet black suits and sunglasses, not a dapple of colour or even grey or white to be found. Crowley stared with alarm as he began to think, _They nearly look like-_

“Shadows,” Aziraphale breathed out as if something had been revealed to him. “They’re the shadows.”

“No time to brain think, let’s run now,” Crowley said, breaking into a sprint. Aziraphale, who has still holding hands with the ginger, nearly tripped but avoided it as he sprinted alongside Crowley. They ran for a thick clump of shrubs that the agents chasing them wouldn’t be in – well, at least, hopefully they weren’t, A lot of home was being put into these random bushes right now.

Aziraphale and Crowley ran towards the plants and ran right through, navigating swiftly through the tightly bundled leaves that raked their sides. They were slowed down but at least anyone chasing them would be disadvantaged too.

They made it out the other end of the plants but skidded to an abrupt halt. Up ahead of them was a fence that was barbed up the top.

“ _Fuck,”_ Crowley hissed under his breath, and Aziraphale began to hyperventilate.

“ _We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die here,_ ” Aziraphale gasped out as his reddening eyes began emitting tears.

Crowley heard loud rustling in the bushes behind them. In moments time, they were going to be detained, and everything would be over, and their struggle for nothing. So Crowley did the only thing he could do and pulled a trembling Aziraphale into his arms.

Crowley stroked Aziraphale’s back as he pulled him into his arms.

“Deep breaths, Aziraphale,” Crowley said a soft voice he had always reserved only for Aziraphale. “In and out, m’kay?” _I wish I could tell him that everything’s going to be okay._ What wistful thinking.

Aziraphale nodded against Crowley’s chest but slower breathing failed him. Te rustling was getting louder. Crowley started to breathe obnoxiously loudly and heard Aziraphale’s breaths slowly align with his. There was shouting nearby. Crowley kept breathing loudly until Aziraphale’s was nearly at a normal rate, but poor thing was still shaking. Crowley held him close to his chest, rubbing his back rhythmically as Aziraphale embraced the comfort. The struggled grunts and footsteps were almost upon them.

Crowley looked up, defeat in his gaze as the clearing was swarmed with shadows.

_To be continued._


End file.
